Logs:Sewing Emergencies
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| RL Date: 13 May, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Quinlys is researching weyrlingmastering, while Brieli skulks around. |
| Where: Records Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 10, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Meara/Mentions |
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| Records Room, High Reaches Weyr Books. Scrolls. Bound hides. Maps. If it's a record pertaining to the Weyr, it's likely to be in this roughly oval room with its floor-to-ceiling cherrywood shelves, its multitude of slots for scrolls, and its wide drawers for materials that shouldn't be rolled up or folded. A scribe is usually on duty at the tall desk up front with its good view of the room, and is able to help visitors find what they're looking for via the big bound index on its rotating stand. Past the desk, several tables stand in neat rows for note-taking, each stocked with glowbaskets, scrap hide, paper and pencils. Additional lighting is provided by a many-armed wrought-iron light fixture, its glows gleaming through luxurious glass containers in fluted shapes instead of baskets. To one side of the room, a gap between two sets of shelves outlines where another set once stood, now replaced by a tapestry-covered aperture. Peeking behind the tapestry reveals another cavern, this one likewise full of shelves, but occupied by only a few boxes of older records and a somewhat musty air of disuse. As well, two narrow but solid doors are locked when the room is unattended and a discreet staircase provides direct access from the Weyrleaders' weyrs.
Perhaps exactly it's the lateness of the hour that draws Brieli into the Records Room, acting and looking as if she knows what she's doing - but still unable to entirely shed the slight hesitation to her steps; the flicker of curiosity and wonder that makes it clear she's never been in here before. There's no one on duty at the front, so she doesn't try to look too purposeful, making her way along the line of tables, examining shelves and baskets along the way. Quinlys is a bright spot in the gloom, and seems to be doing something interesting besides - while the seamstress isn't trying to draw attention to herself, she does slow by the bluerider's table to scan the titles with quick, dark eyes. Quinlys' volumes seem to be a collection of old Weyrlingmaster's notes, some from within the last few turns and others that are far, far older. She's intent enough on what she's doing that Brieli's arrival doesn't draw her away from it; still, as the seamstress wanders past, her footsteps are close enough to turn blue-eyed gaze upwards. Then, Brieli gets an unapologetic, studying glance, which is followed, a moment later, by a cheerful enough, "Hello!" Not what Brieli's looking for, by her expression, but she tilts her head to examine the dates idly nonetheless. Being studied doesn't seem to phase her - she's either unaware or pretending to be. Looking up from the stacks of books with an easy, amiable smile, "Hello. So sorry to have disturbed - I'm just rather nosy. Bad habit of mine... weyrlingmaster?" She tries out the title uncertainly. "Assistant Weyrlingmaster," corrects the bluerider, with just enough of a proud (if rueful) smile to suggest that it's a new development, and that she's still trying the title on for size. "Oh - no, no, it's no interruption, not really. You can be as nosy as you like. I'm," she seems, somehow, almost embarrassed, "trying to read up on it all. Work out what works best. Are you looking for something in particular? I don't know that I'm the best person to talk to, but..." Her brows raise, the question written as plainly there as it is in her cheerful tone. "Oh. Well - congratulations, then? I hope it goes well. I'm told that thirteen is quite a lot for now, but that you could have had twice that in threadfall. Good thing it's less first time out, yes?" Brieli still has the grace to look politely chagrined, despite Quinlys' assurances. Cultured tones still apologetic, "It's research and there's only so long to do it. But thank you for being so kind. And that makes sense, to look into what methods there are - sometimes I even do it for sewing. Not often, mind." With a little laugh, "Oh, no - I'm just... looking, I suppose. It's new to me to be able to have access to all this. It's kind of... amazing and intimidating all at once." Stepping forward to offer a hand, "I'm Brieli." Quinlys positively beams at those congratulations, which turns her expression radiant. "Thank you. It's - it's a good number, I think, not too big, and-- I hope it'll be okay. It's a trial, really. I've only been a full rider for a Turn, so Meara may not keep me on. We'll see." Having been interrupted, she seems less inclined to go back to what she was doing, and indeed, the volume in front of her gets closed with a thud. "We might as well learn from others. You're a seamstress, then? Quinlys-- nice to meet you." Her handshake is firm, her palms rough in that tell-tale rider way. "You're new. Holdbred, from the sound of your voice." Brieli can't really help but smile back as brightly; Quinlys' enthusiasm is infectious, and she's really kind of cute besides. "A trial is fine - if you do well enough, you'll likely be kept on, and if you've only been a rider for a turn, that's quite a vote of confidence. I think. I don't know much about dragons - being a seamstress, yes." Her own hand is slender, but not as soft as the average Holdbred girl - perhaps a little odd - and her grip is likewise firm. "Nice to meet you, Quinlys. And I just moved here about a month or so ago. Holdbred, yes." A little hesitant, "From Crom." Quinlys does seem momentarily surprised by something about the handshake, but it's the remark that follows it - Crom - that takes most of her attention. Still, she doesn't pull her hand back notably early, and although her expression turns briefly wary, she's obviously working hard not to let it linger. "Exactly," she agrees. "So I just need to work as hard as I can, and prove myself. We don't, ah, get all that many holdgirls from Crom. Not recently, at any rate. But you're-- enjoying it here, thus far, I hope?" Brieli seems used to the reaction - perhaps not the surprise, but definitely the slight suspicion at the mention of her origins. Trying not to let it color her tone, "It seems you're off to an excellent start." She taps one particularly thick book with a long finger, quirking a wry smile. "And yes, I can understand that you might not get all that many - there's not much to recommend it, in my opinion, and I've no ties to keep me there. So far, the Weyr has been much more agreeable." A beat before an attempt at humour; "Even if I'm still just mending, all day every day." "Mending," groans Quinlys, who seems quite happy to turn the subject away from origins and the potentially more sticky issues therein. "Faranth, doesn't it bore you to death? I was on the cleaning crews, before I Impressed, and that was deathly, too. I mean, no offense or anything." Her fingers fiddle with the edge of the volume in front of her as she adds, "We seem to get a lot of people starting over here. Me, I'm weyrbred, but loads of people came from elsewhere originally." "It can," Brieli will admit; she's not about to protest about how much she loves her job because - well. Everyone has to work, but no one has to be happy about it. "It's not exactly exciting, but I wouldn't want to have a lot of stress in my life either. So I try not to complain - and we try to work together more often than not. Or I people-watch and listen for good gossip while I work." Grinning a touch at that, she nods, "I've heard that. Starting over. I've met a few people who seem to have moved recently for the same reason. It's... good if that can happen. I don't know that it's easy." Ahem. Quinlys' smile turns crooked for that admission, though she's ready enough with her nod and her own, "That makes sense. Working with other people is always more fun than alone, I think. I mean-- I guess I'm not alone? When I'm with Olly, riding sweeps, I mean. But we'd both rather have more people to talk to." Her fingers play idly with the spine of one of the volumes, now, working it this way and that in a way the recordskeepers would probably hate if only they were watching. "I imagine it isn't. Change isn't easy. The past shapes us and all, right? And that's why some people'll look at you funny for where you're from." It could be construed as an apology. At the very least, it's acknowledgement. Tilting her head thoughtfully, Brieli notes, "That must be nice. Always having someone to talk to, especially when you have something particularly dull to do. Are-- sweeps dull? I keep hearing people complain about them, so I imagine it's not as simple as just going out flying for fun." Dark gaze flicking to Quinlys' fingers playing along the spine of the book briefly - doesn't look like she's going to tell - she agrees easily, "That, or look at you funny for some other reason. I think people just look for an excuse, sometimes." Apology, or whatever, accepted. "And change... yes. I don't think people are actually all that fond of it. Or maybe just older people." "It is," says Quinlys, with genuine enthusiasm. "They-- can be, I guess. You don't want things to happen, because that means something has gone wrong, but sometimes you sort of wish something would, because... otherwise, you're just flying for hours, getting cold and stiff, and it's not as much fun as it could be because you can't do anything fancy. Just watch." If she's noticed Brieli's glance at what her fingers are doing, it doesn't change anything - then again, she may not even be entirely aware of what she's doing. "Old people, in particular. I think they just get set in their ways, and then... blah. I need to remind myself never to get like that. When I get old, I mean." Brieli wrinkles her nose a little in a grimace, nodding in understanding. "If something happens, it's bad. But at least it would be something. The only comparison I can really draw is being 'on duty'. There's hardly ever sewing emergencies - but at least when there is, there's something. I think 'emergency' is overstating, though." With a grin, "I mean, how bad can a tear be? And I always wonder if they wanted to remind themselves that. I suppose it's difficult to keep... perspective? I would think history helps." A wave of her hand to indicate all the shelves, looking around for a moment before regretfully, "I really should go. A bit late, and I ought to let you get back to it." Quinlys' expression turns, quite suddenly, desperately amused. "A sewing emergency! Mm - you're quite right. We don't get emergencies too often, anyway. For better or for worse." To be honest, she seems disappointed at the other woman's intended departure, rather as though she'd really prefer to keep talking - rather as though the research, while good in theory, is significantly less interesting than she might like. "Oh, probably. Well - it was nice to meet you, Brieli. Best of luck with getting settled in." Brieli promises, perhaps amused by the disappointment, "I'll try to come interrupt you again, see how it's going." A nod to the books. "And it was nice to meet you, Quinlys. Congratulations again." She flashes a quick smile and offers a little wave before turning to wander back off the way she came. |
Comments
Brieli (Brieli) left a comment on Mon, 14 May 2012 13:59:57 GMT.
I was not skulking! I looked like I had perfectly legit reasons to be there! ;)
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